Of Kings and Queens

Constrained

Alfred never thought he would be standing here, in front of the large tan building before him, but yet here he was. Opening the cool glass doors, Alfred let loose and breath he had been holding in for centuries and walked into the small building.

Alfred was immediately hit with the smell of bandages and clorox as he strolled up to the sunny receptionist seated at the front desk.

"Hello, how can I help you Mr...?"

"Jones." Alfred answered and picked at the skin around his nails. "Fredrick Jones."

The receptionist nodded her head and looked through the stack of paper on her desk. "Fill this out for me please, Mr. Jones, and take a seat at the waiting area."

Alfred smiled sadly and took the clipboard to his seat in the waiting room. He filled out the paper with ease answering things like his name, address and other regular questions. One question in particular caught Alfred's eye specifically.

Why are you here?

Alfred hesitated as the black pen hovered over the line next to question. If there was ever a time to back out, it was now.

With a sigh, Alfred filled out the box and handed the clipboard back to the lady at the desk, taking in another deep breath and shrinking into his bomber jacket.

It was about time he came here. Alfred always ran away from his problems, going as far as changing his name to get rid of the past. He hated being called Freddie, it reminded him of when his mother would chase him around the house after her darling little <em> Frederick </em>.

What was he doing? Why did he wait this long? How many years did it take for Alfred to realize...How many people did he have to hurt, slander, step over and execute before he realized...

That he missed his mommy. That he needed help. He was hurting himself and everyone else around him because he refused to get any.

His mother didn't die in a car crash...

She left him.

Alone.

Cold.

Freezing alone in a blanket after five years of seeing her son grow up and deciding he wasn't worth the effort to raise.

Leaving him alone...

Forever.

"Mr. Jones!" The nurse snapped, having to repeat his name again, and leading him behind the tall glass doors.

The next moments were...bleak.

Silence.

People talked, the doctors, the nurses, but it was like the beige walls of the hospital smothered all the noises in the world...

All but the sound of her laugh, telling him she was just going shopping...she'd be back soon. Smiling and waving from the car window, the dark sunglasses covering her eyes.

If Alfred would've seen her eyes would he have known? Convinced her to stay? Sneak into the car?

Alfred looked up finally to meet a man with dark brown hair and stubble covering his jaw as if he hadn't been home in centuries. His eyes were wise and old, amber and dead, like a barrel of ale that has been aging since the Roman Empire.

They were also the eyes of a man who has lived a thousand years and spent each one of them committing terrible acts. A man who will spend the next thousand paying those debts.

Someone Alfred knew very well on the inside...

"Hello Mr. Jones, how are you doing today?"

Alfred glared at the man. As if he had to ask, Alfred was sure he was going to break any minute and fall apart, and that should surely be evident by now.